1up-an extras life

After spending a twenty hour day on the set of Stranger than Fiction I've learned a thing or two about the ins and outs of the biz. I was an extra who will probably be a blip on the screen when it comes out in 2006 but at least I can say that the fuzzy image you saw was me. Seeing Will Ferrel from ten feet delivering his scenes in person let me check off a box on the things todo before I die sheet. He's pretty funny in between scenes making faces and playing with the artificial light shining on the ground(doesn't really sound funny but he is Glenn Frye). Maggie Gillanhall walked around the extras pen(actually call it a pen) and I wasn't able to muster the courage to say hi so settled on eye contact. I planned to think of something grand and elaborate to say to her but all that went through my head was maybe saying "I love darko." The best perk of the day was filming in an artificial rain scene where they set up 3 huge cranes with rods that shot out water. It was quite a feat and I was happy to be a part of it even if I was just a car driving across the street from Will. On the way home I was exhausted and I noticed a car next to mine being a little larger than life and then I also noticed a zonked out Will Ferrel catching a cat nap on the way back to his hotel being escorted by 3 police officers. It showed that he was in fact human and not made out of pure laughter.

The other extras were pretty hilarious as you had stereotypical goth kids, the overlyflamboyant gay guy, and your run of the mill jocks. We ate lunch at Farugut highschool(home of Kevin Garnett, only know because I saw his picture on the wall in godlike proportions) in its cafeteria and was a throwback to highschool when different people group off due to a chemical association in their minds. I found myself with a goth girl and the bouncer from the beachwood(the one that has all the tattoos, one in particular being a ship going up his neck). It was comforting although the food was like that of a cafeteria- in bulk and flavorless. Although making 2 hundo for the day I almost lost my mind due to lack of activity. I'll do it again but will have to space it out a bit.

quarter pounder with cheese

So as I reflect on days gone past and what these twenty-five years have brought I ponder if we'll have space cars and halos over our heads anytime soon. One thing 25 has brought me is anxiety about the world in general. Maybe I've seen a beautiful mind a bit too many times but sometimes clicked in my head and now I feel as if I'm part of society(for better or worse). I've begun to analyze the everyday workings of this world like where blue bags go in the city of chicago. The rumor is out there about how the city doesn't do anything special with these blue bags which has led me to believe that maybe the city invented these blue bags so homeless people won't tear open regular garbage bags anymore(creating a mess for the garbage men) and will be able to efficiently collect cans. In anycase this is just another useless chore my mind has carefully mapped out for me. Sometimes I wish I could start a newspaper on useless information. Another thing that freaks me out is big brother and I know that he doesn't really exist but the bush/cheney/christian coalition exist and they are far more evil as they're out in the open. In my head I've slowly figured out that aging creates leverage for the government against you and as you age you become deeper and more connected into society ie mortgage/kids. You can much less easily jump on a plane to Greece(will) and disappear. The government relies on you to be a productive member of society which is why there is such a far right movement and a demand for keeping in with the norms of society. My parents put a no war sign up in our yard and the conservatives ripped it down not the kids that normally knock over snowmen. This secret society mentality has trickled into all parts of my life as I wonder how people become union and what really goes on at their meetings. Its interesting to imagine the world from the beginning and the starting of society still running strong. For example construction(the trucks are always running-we're either dying or growing as a civilization), food connoisseurs, hospitals, and finally public works. There are of course a crap load more like law enforcement and social welfare but each persons lot in life can be predestined. Its when you jump ship that you can make a difference in society

there be the post

there be the comments

What the hell am I talking about you might ask...


blog pirates



people who use comment sections as there own space for personal revelations.

I'm not mad I just wanted to be the first to properly give these people names. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

waiting

The waters are uneasy today my friend. There has been a great disturbance felt throughtout the hull. Froggers, a dozen around the perimeter, wait and prepare. Picking up speed by a moonless midnight, throwing out an anchor to cast the line to see if there is any light. Trolling through memories for a few keepers in an otherwise packed winnebago.

a mid winter prance

The new darling site is up and there's even a new unreleased song on it. We're playing a show this Sunday(6/19)at the Empty Bottle with Sin Ropas(ex-califone). Attendance by anyone in the blog world would be greatly appreciated. We start at 9:30pm and there is even a new song.

In the street eh?

Listening to David Cross' bit about finding Condoms in the street reinforced my already somewhat baffling thought that people are having sex in the middle of the street. This all came about when I came out to my car and there was a jimmy tangled and used sitting in middle of street. I tend to see them a bit more heavily in impoverished areas such as hyde park(outside the pearl that is the university part of town. I say pearl because it is a concentrated area of white people with a shell of university police on every corner surrounded by an ocean of poverty and destituteness). I think the urban legend of street sex may be just that when factoring in walks of shame(the male species, although not as frequent, do fall victim to this somber strut) and prostitutes. Yup thats what I've got in my head right now. I'd much rather take the mental shovel and scoop out this stew of sin resting in my cranium but that's impossible.

Kudos to Sarah for the in depth look in to the locomotive running in my brain. I do appreciate it and it probably went something like this: lets see a standard wood burning steam engine(drive) there followed by a few passenger cars(future) a nice dining cart(quality of life) and a sturdy little caboose(past). I agree with my brother in that you should start a blog as the twists and turns of your writing style deserves a better place in life than on my comment section.

Desert desolation meets the old school

Besides spending the last week laying in the sand everyday getting sandy, reading, and burning my skin I went to a benefit this past Saturday for Iraqi veterans Against the War. It sorta knocked me out of my happy sand bubble to hear people talking about being trapped in the military making a hundred bucks a week building the same bridge for a whole year. Never have I felt more ignorant about what is going on and the benefit was in part an art exhibit showing photographs taken during one vets year tour of duty so that helped a little. 1 of the pictures in particular was called desert desolation and showed two marines in a little lean-to in the middle of the desert waiting to be brought into action or the "theatre" as the photographer called it. I asked this GI what he meant later and he told me thats what they call going into active duty. Another photograph showed four GI's rushing around one Iraqi civilian who got a nail in his foot. In the caption the photographer talks about it being of the utmost importance to win over the respect of the town that your stationed. You could see it in the before mentioned Iraqis eyes. A look of total disgust mixed with a little sympathy and a whole lot of anger. During the Q+A part of the benefit old Vietnam veterans looked on with a sort of a "I understand completely" solitude. It was interesting seeing old vets talk with vets my age and pooling their mutual interest at ending this terrible mistake. If there is one thing I took out of my evening it was the terror in the eyes of these people who returned home from serving their country. You could tell their eyes had pooled with tears many times that day alone but have kept composure due to their mental training.

Does making an impact on society require insanity and desperation

Honestly if you look at every major person who caused a change in the world almost all have twisted souls. For example Elvis, Michelangelo, and even a little Michael Jackson. "Ben the two of us need look no far." That screams I'm a little kid and my life is beginning to scar me permanently. We were talking about this last night and then one of the peeps in the group thought he had the conversation beat and stated, "Albert Einstein." Low and behold Einstein had a coke habit and spent a vast time as a patent clerk watching other people become famous. And it lies here in desperation that Einstein came up with some of his best work (thanks good will hunting). All this was spiraling through my head this morning as I was in traffic. I looked ahead to see a car with a bumper sticker that read, "A grunt can do anything." It had a marine insignia right next to it. At first I was like okay a military guy, repressed childhood caused by ultraconservative slayings on the naive mind. But then I saw his car. He was driving a PT cruiser. He might as well have been riding his rollerblades in spandex with a fanny pack. I don't know what made me so angry about this but PT cruisers remind me of the big rollerskate at roller rinks that kids get pushed around in on their birthday. I don't know maybe they're big rollerblades now. Breaking the layer of skin navigating the blood stream and finding purpose this train of thought ends up to the usual question. Why do people go into the army? My thoughts are they go because they have been programmed from an early age and now they are like many darth vaders. The good man that was your father was seduced and betrayed by the dark side of the force. All there is left is a machine. Moving further do social workers go into social work to help themselves or help others? This question is more of a chicken and an egg question. Did they go into social work as an escape from their own problems or to use their problems/self treatment to help others in the world to keep on getting up every day. Social workers deserve the respect of the everyone and I believe in a thousand years the history books will read these people as the saving grace for perpetuation of society. Soldiers should be considered the same way but I believe the history books may write this one differently due to Micheal Moore and his less than pleasant description of the true rulers of the free world: Stupid White Men. I wonder if Michael Moore had a repressed childhood. In college I went and saw him spoke at follenger for the above mentioned book. It was pretty hilarious as Moore started making rhetorical questions about who are ruining society and right then and there Grendel stands up and states "STUPID WHITE MEN!" Grendel was in full posse wearing a big 70's jacket with ravers Ari and Uzi at his side wearing giant pants and tankinis and I thought to myself, "Are you really imparting wisdom to this room or just trying to hear your own voice." Maybe he should be a social worker. In any case at the end I got my book signed(cut in front of a line around the block but thats a story for another time). As I got it signed I asked Michael what I should go into in college. His response: "How the hell should I know, I'm a college dropout."

If he walks like a duck...

Today I saw an 8 year old kid with a shirt that said "detention club." Sure enough his mom was chasing behind him yelling, "you're in big trouble mister." But which came first the t-shirt or the tude. When I was a senior in highschool my friends and I wore our shirts that said Seniors: I love my attitude problem. We also wore size 17 1988 nike airs and collected ploids out of the garbage at lunchtime. WE had grand visions of getting a giant bubble chair for calculus. Good fun.